


Commander-Approved Chaos

by storiesofdistantstars



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Humor, Sibling Rivalry, phoenix is very petty and very tired, rated for mild language, sibling shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 09:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24348760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesofdistantstars/pseuds/storiesofdistantstars
Summary: Commander Phoenix is very, very tired of being asked about his mismatched armor. It may be petty to unleash the 334th's resident pranksters on the cause, but, well... considering that cause is his twin sister, he doesn't mind a little pettiness.
Relationships: Original Clone Trooper Character(s) & Original Clone Trooper Character(s)
Kudos: 16





	Commander-Approved Chaos

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a conversation on the CWAcrossthestars discord, and I blame them entirely.  
> All of the characters in this are my OCs.

_“Tempest!”_

Phoenix let his head drop into his hands with a dull sigh. Of course. Of _course_ they’d mixed up their armor.

He and his twin had been touching up their armor and painting new pieces to replace the irreparable ones when the Seppies had attacked. And, apparently, Tempest had taken his left greave in the rush to get moving. Because the one he was holding- the one that he had, apparently, been wearing for the past day while they fought and in the past hour while Tempest and her battalion jumped into hyperspace, heading _several systems away_ \- was distinctly _not_ 334th lavender.

He groaned again and flopped back onto his bunk, setting the greave down again, and allowed himself a moment’s petty pleasure that at least she would be stuck wearing lavender rather than 576th sky blue for as long as they were apart.

The door slid open, and Phoenix lifted his head just enough to recognize Joey and Checkers as they entered, identical grins on their faces even though he _knew_ they were just as tired as he was. They’d been on their feet as long, at least.

“Hey, boss,” Joey said, flicking a two-fingered salute that was decidedly not protocol, not that anyone in Carud Squad cared anymore, considering how much time they’d spent together since the beginning of the war. “Others at the mess?”

“I assume so,” Phoenix said, running a critical eye over each. “Have you eaten?”

Checkers rolled his eyes so dramatically it was more rolling his entire head. “Yes, Mom. Eaten, showered, been checked over by the medics.”

Phoenix glared at him, though it lacked any real ire, and they all knew it.

And then a grin started to spread over Joey’s face as his eyes flicked downwards, and he elbowed Checkers in the ribs.

Of course. For a whopping _thirty seconds,_ Phoenix had allowed himself to forget that these two fancied themselves Sarad Company’s resident comedians. Of course they would… _take advantage._

“Phoenix,” Checkers said, innocently. “What is that?”

Maybe he could just play dumb. “What’s what?”

“Well, it looks to me like it’s his armor,” Joey said, raising his eyebrows. “Except painted like he’s from the 576th.”

Phoenix sighed and thumped his head against the unforgiving pillow. The pair stared at him for a moment, identical delighted grins spreading across their faces.

He took the moment to savor the exactly two seconds of peace he got, and then resigned himself to the inevitable.

“Really, Phoenix? Don’t you have any battalion pride?”

Checkers shook his head mournfully. “We’ve lost him. He’s been corrupted.”

“I’m sure you could request a transfer,” Joey added. “Although that would leave Captain Atin in charge and the shinies still think he’s going to eat them.”

“Can I have your bunk?”

Phoenix dragged his hands through his hair. “Mir’shebse,” he growled, and _damn it,_ they both looked delighted.

“It’s not mine,” he admitted reluctantly. “Tempest and I were doing touchups when the clankers came, and I ended up with her greave.”

“That’s surprisingly shiny of you,” Joey said, the little shit. “I thought they trained the CCs better than that.”

“I deny all responsibility,” Phoenix declared. “It is entirely Commander Tempest’s fault.”

“Yes, of course,” Checkers said, and if Phoenix didn’t know him so well he might have believed him. “We believe you, sir.”

“I will give you KP,” he said, not bothering to sit up.

“You won’t.” Joey looked _entirely_ too cheeky. “Because you love us.”

“Watch me, vod’ika,” Phoenix growled, draping an arm over his eyes. Joey _cackled._

“Sure thing, sir,” he drawled, dropping onto the nearest bunk- it was actually Marev’s, and he _would_ regret it when the other returned and he got dumped on the floor. “You can get right on that.”

“Go to sleep,” Phoenix sighed, because Joey was a brat but he was also right about Phoenix not assigning him kitchen duty for teasing.

He was generous that way.

It didn’t stop there. Not by a long shot.

In fact, it only escalated.

The next one to notice was Marev, predictably- his unofficial right hand was perceptive when he wanted to be, which could be both a blessing and a curse. Thankfully, he also knew the meaning of the word _restraint,_ and all he offered was a few raised eyebrows. By the end of the week, most of the older troopers- the ones who had the shiny meekness worn off by now and realized he wasn’t as cold as he seemed- had commented on it, some curious, some teasing. Even Captain Atin had, although he suspected it was mostly so that Atin could see the look of betrayal in Phoenix’s eyes as the calm and serious captain dropped the veneer of professionalism to make a quip about _declaring his allegiance._

Honestly. Phoenix loved his tubemate- it felt sometimes like she was a part of his own heart- but he had _standards._

Even General Aveyla felt the need to comment on it. “New paint job, Commander?” she asked, voice too full of the grin he _knew_ she was suppressing to hide her amusement.

“Haar’chak,” he muttered to himself, empathetically. She _almost_ smirked.

“You know, I never thought I’d see the day you’d choose Dess over me,” she said casually. “I mean, I love my brother-padawan, but he’s an idiot.”

“You know _damn_ well-”

“If you wanted a transfer, I’m sure he’d be amenable,” she offered, almost _giggling_ now. “We could arrange it.”

“I will shoot myself and leave you to deal with these hooligans on your own,” he warned her.

Dawn laughed, loudly, and tapped his shoulder with her fist. “You know, if it bothers you so much, you could just repaint it. Or find an extra.”

“We don’t have the armor to spare,” he groused. “And I can’t just _repaint_ it. It’s Tempest’s.”

The vode didn’t have much, their culture a mishmash of Mandalorian and Kaminoan and a little bit Jedi and something all their own. They were born to die, and all of them knew it. But armor, armor was as close to sacred as anything they had. If Phoenix repainted his sister’s armor, he didn’t think he would ever be able to look her in the eye.

“Well, you’ll simply have to live with it,” she said. “For a little longer, at least. We’re being sent to meet up with the 576th again at the end of the tenday.”

Phoenix most certainly did not sigh in relief. Dawn’s raised eyebrow said that she thought differently, but she walked away without saying anything more.

Less than a minute later, there were soft footsteps behind him, and Ashes appeared at his elbow, tugging uncomfortably at his chestplate.

Phoenix glanced down at him and adjusted his pauldron until it sat straighter, tightening one of the clasps. “Hey, kid. You wearing the standard stuff?”

Ashes nodded. Phoenix hummed sympathetically- their youngest trooper wasn’t quite fully grown, which meant the armor wasn’t _actually_ one size fits all. And after the way he’d grown up, he might never be as tall as his siblings.

“Phoenix,” he said after a moment, voice soft and hesitant. “Can I ask something?”

“Go ahead, Ash’ika.”

“What _is_ the story behind the blue-”

Phoenix groaned, tipping his head back to stare at the durasteel ceiling as if it would give him strength. “Do not finish that sentence,” he said flatly.

Ashes almost giggled, and Phoenix couldn’t help but smile.

“Armor mixup,” he explained. “Tempest has mine.”

Ashes nodded. “So it’s not you saying you like the 576th better? Cause some of the others were wondering-”

Phoenix narrowed his eyes. “Did someone put you up to this because they knew I wouldn’t get mad at you for asking?”

The kid just grinned. Cheeky little brat. “In my defense, Lexicon offered me cake.”

“Get better friends,” Phoenix grumbled. His comm beeped, and he ruffled Ashes’ hair briefly. “I have to go. Tell Lexicon I’m not a di’kut.”

“Will do,” Ashes said with a grin, and trotted away.

Phoenix resisted the urge to slam his head against a wall, and headed off to go finish the paperwork he’d been postponing.

The ship shuddered as they exited hyperspace, the view from the bridge flashing from blue to black as they reached the arranged meeting point. The _Kandosii_ was already there, grey and red against the dark space behind it.

Phoenix elected to bring Carud Squad with him to the other Venator- they perhaps weren’t strictly necessary for the meeting, but neither Tempest nor General Poqev minded extraneous troopers on their ship, especially not if they made themselves useful. Besides, with the amount of time their battalions spent working together, all of them had friends in the 576th, and it was unlikely they’d get much time to sit and chat once the fighting started.

“Hey, Phoenix,” Checkers said, leaning over towards him, Joey at his side as always. “Want us to go retrieve your armor for you? Since you’ll be busy meeting with the officers and all?”

Phoenix quirked one eyebrow. “Do I want to know what you’re planning to do with that paint you have?”

Checkers tried, unsuccessfully, to hide the can behind him, as if Phoenix hadn’t already seen what it was. “Probably not.”

Well, Tempest could withstand a little chaos, and if Joey and Checkers were bored, he’d rather have them making mischief somewhere _other_ than the _Sunrise._

“Yeah, sure,” he decided, pretending not to notice Joey’s noise of delight. “Don’t break anything.”

“Yes, sir!” Joey said cheerfully, saluting and tapping Checkers’ elbow with his own. “We’ll be back soon.”

The pair turned and left, and Phoenix sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

That was probably a mistake.

Phoenix didn’t even _want_ to know why Joey and Checkers were laughing on the transport back to the _Sunrise._ Or what they’d done with the paint, since the can they’d brought with them was suspiciously empty.

They had, at least, retrieved his greave, slightly scuffed but none the worse for wear, and left Tempest’s with the rest of her armor. That was one less annoyance, although he realized somewhat belatedly he might have created yet more headaches by letting their resident troublemakers loose on the 576th.

It probably wasn’t a good sign that his comm beeped with an incoming call barely after he’d stepped off the transport.

He accepted it. “Commander Phoenix here.”

_“Phoenix,”_ a familiar voice said. _“Vod. Ner vod. You are aware you could have just… asked for your armor back.”_

“Hello to you too, Tempest, what seems to be the problem?” Phoenix leaned against the side of the transport.

_“Phoenix.”_

“My boys volunteered to go fetch it,” he said, ignoring Tempest’s inarticulate noises of… probably rage. “They didn’t have anything better to do, so I let them.”

_“And which troopers would that be?”_

Phoenix almost winced. “It would be Joey and Checkers.”

_“Ah,”_ Tempest said, voice laced with displeasure. _“Why don’t I send you the picture I just took.”_

Phoenix put on his helmet to access the HUD, and just stared for a moment.

“That is a _lot_ of purple paint,” he said finally.

_“Your observational skills are staggering.”_

“Really, I’m almost impressed,” he mused. “They didn’t even take that long. And in the middle of the hangar, too.”

_“Phoenix.”_

He sighed, and pulled his helmet off again, tucking it under one elbow. “Do you want me to send them over to scrub it with the tiniest brushes we can find?”

Tempest hummed. _“I am fully aware this is your fault, vod.”_

“I deny all responsibility for my subordinates’ actions,” he said immediately. “I will admit that your hangar looks better covered in 334th colors, though.”

_“Actually,”_ Tempest said, voice suddenly faux-sweet, _“I leave discipline in your capable hands. I think I’ll just bring Knickknack with me tomorrow.”_

Phoenix resisted the urge to groan. Knickknack- actually two troopers, batchmates, one named Knick and the other named Knack- were as bad as Joey and Checkers, and probably just as bored.

“Is that really necessary?”

_“Well,”_ Tempest said, _“I think your ship would look a little better in blue. Commander Tempest out.”_

The call cut off abruptly, and Phoenix sighed, thunking his head back against the transport. After a moment, he lifted his head to glare at Joey and Checkers, who were- inexplicably- still there.

“You realize that _I’m_ the one going to be dealing with this,” he said flatly. “Tempest is going to pin this on me.”

“You knew _exactly_ what you were getting into, ori’vod,” Checkers said with a smirk. “Have fun.”

“I hate you both,” Phoenix sighed, and resigned himself to the inevitable.

Tempest’s retribution didn’t come until late the next day, when Phoenix finally found a chance to visit the mess hall. He’d been _planning_ on getting some of the tasteless rations and a cup of caf, but that was somewhat abruptly derailed by what he saw on the far wall.

To put it lightly, it was a _lot_ of blue paint.

Someone- Phoenix highly suspected Knickknack, and therefore Tempest by proxy- had painted _Long live the 576th!_ in blocky letters across the entire wall. A perfectly fine sentiment, he supposed, or it would be, if it wasn’t plastered across the wall of _his ship._

Someone called his name, and he looked over to see the rest of Carud Squad, gathered around one of the tables in the corner. He moved to join them, and Ruus slid him a cup of caf.

He sent her a look of pure gratitude as Marev said dryly, “I see you’ve noticed the new addition to the mess hall.”

“I have,” Phoenix said dryly. “It’s retribution from Tempest. Because someone put our colors in their hangar.”

“Someone,” Steady said flatly.

“Two someones,” Phoenix said, raising an eyebrow at Joey and Checkers, who utterly failed to look ashamed or at all remorseful.

“Why is it always you two,” Tooka muttered into his caf.

“It’s not _always_ us,” Joey protested, waving a hand vaguely.

“Except for how it is,” Stitch said, knitting needles clicking softly as he worked. “Nine times out of ten.”

“Slander,” Checkers declared. “Absolute slander.”

“More importantly,” Joey interrupted, “you’re not just going to let the 576th get away with this, right? I mean-”

“It’s not as if it was unprovoked,” Ruus pointed out. “Considering what you did to their hangar.”

Joey waved that off and looked at Phoenix expectantly.

He sighed. How did he get himself into this position, _exactly?_

Well, Tempest could deal with the fallout.

“Nothing irreplaceable, nothing expensive, nothing that I’d have to seriously punish you for, and nothing that can’t be fixed or bypassed quickly in an emergency.”

Checkers _cackled._ “We can do that.”

“Phoenix,” Tooka said. “Are you _insane?”_

“Probably,” he admitted, and chugged the rest of his caf. “But Tempest deserves it.”

“You won’t regret this, boss,” Joey said, practically dragging Checkers from his seat in his excitement.

Phoenix stood and chucked his cup into the disposal bin as they left. “Oh, I most certainly will.”

He cast one last bitter look at the paint-covered wall. _Long live the 576th!_ it continued to proclaim, cheerfully.

Well, if there was one thing to be said for the chaos that was sure to come, at least it would drive his sister _insane._

**Author's Note:**

> Mando'a translations:  
> mir'shebse: smartasses  
> vod'ika: little sibling, younger sibling  
> haar'chak: damn it  
> di'kut: idiot  
> vod: sibling  
> ner vod: my sibling  
> ori'vod: older sibling
> 
> Comments appreciated! Come say hi on my tumblr @storiesofdistantstars!


End file.
